Tara Chambler
by ArtemisHalestorm
Summary: Tara's family dies sooner than season 4. She left her apartment to escape the constant reminder and along the way she runs into Rick–who has just woken up from his coma. This version of The Walking Dead finds Tara at the center of the story and a main character right from the beginning. Because she couldn't protect her family and she witnesses the awful event, she's a bit OOC.
1. Chapter 1 - Days Gone By

_**Walking Dead Fanfiction**_

_**Summary:**__ Tara's family dies sooner than season 4. She left her apartment to escape the constant reminder and along the way she runs into Rick – who has just woken up from his coma._

_ This version of The Walking Dead finds Tara at the center of the story and a main character right from the beginning. Because she couldn't protect her family and she witnesses the awful event, she's a bit OOC. She's slightly hardened and depressed. Her presence changes some things in their world along the way, but ultimately she becomes a beloved member of Rick's group._

_ Tara is still a little clumsy, but also has bad luck. Bad things will usually happen to her._

_ She is 23 years old at the beginning instead of her age in the series, which I assume is late twenties to mid-thirties._

_ Also, Alanna Masterson is beautiful and I heard that people have been fat shaming her lately. Dudes, she had a BABY. Try giving birth to a human and not gain weight. Some can, but most can't. HOWEVER, she _is_ a lesbian in the show and so she will be described as if she didn't gain a few._

_ She still hot as fuck IRL. _

Chapter One: Days Gone Bye

Sitting on the side of the road in a random neighborhood, she raised her gun to her temple. She didn't know what was in the afterlife, or if there was even something after. She wasn't sure if there's a God or Heaven and Hell. But whatever was next… had to be better than this. Better than being alone and too scared to even close her eyes longer than it takes to blink.

_When was the last time I slept?_

Tears ran down her cheeks while her family's screams echoed in her ears and her sister and niece's final moments when her dead dad tore into them kept replaying in her mind. It wasn't fair. She went through the basic training at the police academy and felt so sure she could protect her family. But she failed. She couldn't even stop her own dad from killing Lilly and Meghan.

Tara closed her eyes and prepared to pull the trigger. She was so tired. The thought of dying should have made terrified her. But at the same time, she looked forward to finally sleeping. Even if it's forever…

"Wait!"

Tara didn't think twice to point her gun away from herself and at the sudden appearance of an ill-looking man who nearly tripped while getting off his bike.

"Wait," He held his hands up weakly. "Please, don't shoot,"

"Who are you?" She kept her eyes narrowed at him. She may be ready to die, but she'd be damned if she let's a monster tear her apart.

"My name is Rick Grimes," He says carefully, trying not to alarm her further.

"Okay, _Rick Grimes_. Were you bit?"

"I – I don't know what's going on," He looked around and Tara acknowledged he looked confused. And pale. And she spotted a bandage on his stomach through the opening of his hospital gown.

"Were. You. _Bit_," She demanded, warily getting to her feet.

"Bit by what?"

Her eyes hardened in annoyance. "Don't fuck around, I'm not in the mood. Were you _fucking _bit,"

Rick stared at her, eyes wide and unsure if the woman would pull the trigger.

Tara looked him over, and decided he wasn't just being difficult. He really didn't know. "Have you been living under a rock? It's the end of the fucking world. We're living in an apocalyptic shitstorm filled with the walking dead. So were you bit by a fucking _zombie_," Tara's voice tightened, daring the man to play dumb one more time.

"I – I just woke up. In the hospital," He breathed heavily. "I was – was in a coma,"

She scoffed. "Well that sucks," She lowered her gun. "So what's that bandage for then? What happened?"

"I – uhm," Rick shook his head, brain trying to catch up with what this younger woman said. "I was shot. I'm a – I'm a sheriff's deputy – did you say zombie?"

"Dude," Tara took to sitting on the ground again and leaned forward, her elbow resting on her thigh and holding up her head. "People died and rose again. As _zombies_. Dead ones. Flesh eaters. Walking dead. Whatever you wanna call them,"

Tara watched his eyes widen in disbelief. "No. That – That's impossible,"

"Haven't you seen all the dead people?"

Rick, breathing heavier, looked around in shock. No, he didn't see any wandering dead people. But his neighborhood looked deserted and he did see a mutilated woman when he found the bike. He was too shocked and worried about his family to even question it. Shaking his head once his eyes landed back on his house, he began stumbling across the street. "Carl! Lori!"

"Shush!" Tara quickly got to her feet and followed to shut the man up before he alerted every dead person on the street.

"Lori!" Rick burst into his home in a panic. "Carl!"

"Rick, don't be so loud!" Tara hissed at the man, following him inside.

"My – My wife and son,"

"I'm sorry," Tara said, already assuming the worst. "They're probably not here. The entire street is deserted, apart from the dead ones,"

"No," Rick shook his head. "The photos are gone," He said, pointing at the empty walls and hurrying up the stairs. He came back down moments later. "Some clothes are gone. Only enough to travel with,"

"So they left. Doesn't mean they survived,"

He turned on her. "Yes, they did!" Tara jumped a little at his volume and he sighed. "I'm – I'm sorry, but they did. I have to believe that,"

"Okay, but where would they go?"

"I don't know,"

Tara watched Rick's face twist into a pitiful look of desperation before he fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. Tara didn't know what to do at this point and looked around awkwardly. This was what she probably looked like days ago, when she lost her own family. _How embarrassing…_

"Wake up! Wake up!" He slammed his hand against his head.

"Okay okay," Tara stopped the broken deputy, kneeling beside him. He looked up at her. "Maybe they are alive. But they're not here and I don't think they're coming back,"

He nodded. "I have to find them,"

Tara bit her lip, looking around in thought before deciding. "Then let's go,"

Rick stared at her. "You're coming with me? We just met,"

"I don't have anything else going on," Tara shrugged and stood back up. "Unless you'd rather me not go with you,"

"No. No," Rick nodded. "I'd love the help, thank you,"

She nodded. "Yeah, whatever. Now get up, Deputy,"

He stood weakly and Tara finally called him out on his appearance.

"Are you sick, or something? Maybe we should just wait until you're better,"

"No, I'm fine," Rick ignored her concern and stumbled outside where he fell to his knees in his yard.

"Shit," Tara sighed and wearily headed toward him. She stepped outside just as she noticed a young boy come out of nowhere and whack him in the head. "Rick!"

"Daddy! Daddy!" A dark skinned boy was startled by the woman and backed up, tripping over Rick, who was now lying on his back in a daze.

"Duane!" His dad ran up the street, shooting a walker on his way before aiming the gun at Tara who drew her own weapon just as fast.

"Daddy, I got one," The boy told him, running to his side for protection.

"_Carl_," Rick groaned.

"Son, you know they don't talk," The man said, eyes glancing down at the pale man and his bandaged wound.

"He's not dead," Tara called over to him, walking cautiously closer. "Just a little sick, I think,"

"What kind of wound?"

"Gunshot,"

"Are you bit?"

"No,"

Satisfied that both pairs of strangers weren't a threat, Tara and the man lowered their guns.

The man put his gun away and nodded to Rick. "Help me with him. Maybe I can help,"

She nodded and put her own gun away. "Thank you,"

He walked over to her while she to him. "Morgan Jones,"

"Tara Chambler," They shook hands.

"This is my son, Duane,"

She nodded to the boy. "Nice to meet you Duane,"

The boy nodded back. "You too,"

Now introduced, the adults carefully drag the unconscious man to Morgan's home. Or the home they were currently staying in. Morgan gets him settled in the guest room and cleans up his wound while Duane led Tara to the living room where it appeared him and his father slept.

"I'm sorry I hit your friend,"

Tara shrugs nonchalantly. "You thought he was a dead one,"

"Dad and I call them walkers,"

"Okay then. You thought he was a walker," They sit down near their sleeping area.

"You his girlfriend?"

Tara gagged playfully. "Gross, no," Duane laughs. "I just met him, like… Thirty minutes ago,"

"Really?"

"Yep,"

"So how'd you find each other? Where's your family?"

"Duane," The two of them looked up to Morgan, who stood just inside the hall watching them. "Sorry. We haven't seen any other survivors for a while now. I think he forgot that we should assume the worst and leave it at that," He walked up to his son and sat on the ground next to him.

"I get that. Just don't let Rick hear you say it," Tara said.

"Rick. That's his name?"

"Yeah. Rick Grimes. He just found out his family fled their home when Duane whacked him in the head,"

Duane lowered his head in embarrassment, but Tara gave him a playful smirk so he'd know she was just teasing and he smiled back.

"He thinks they're alive?"

"His wife packed some photos, I guess. And some clothes,"

Morgan chuckled. "My wife was the same way. I packed survival gear, she…" He shook his head with a fond smile.

Tara's smile was much smaller as she remembered her dad, sister, a niece. Only the good memories. She just needed to remember the good times, if only for a minute.

"Are you gonna help him?" Duane spoke up. "Find his family?"

Tara nodded. "I have nothing else to do. Why not be useful?" She sighed. "If I can help someone then maybe I can get some hope back, you know?"

Morgan smiled at the prospect of what she just said.

"How is Rick, by the way?"

"He had a fever, but I cleaned up his wound and replaced the bandage. Maybe some rest will make him feel a little better,"

"Thank you,"

"Glad I could help, but I'm still not sure if he can be trusted. I mean, you seem like a nice enough person, but I think I heard you say you just met him,"

"Yeah," She nodded.

"What do you know about him?"

"Just that he was looking for his family and had been in a coma,"

"A coma?"

"He said he just woke up from one and had no idea what was going on. He didn't even know about the walkers,"

"So he might not have told you he was bit,"

She thought about it, then shrugged. "I guess not,"

Morgan shook his head and stood up. "Duane, why don't you go get a board game or something," He looked to Tara. "You mind keeping him company? I'd feel more comfortable waiting for your friend to wake up to be sure he wasn't bit or something,"

"We got scrabble," Duane noted, not looking that thrilled.

Tara smiled. "I love that game,"

The hours ticked by and the sun went down. Downstairs, Tara entertained Duane with his board games and comics while upstairs, Morgan sat beside the stranger tied up in his guest bed. Baseball bat in hand. Just in case.

He did briefly wonder if he was right to trust Tara. They just met, but she seemed harmless enough. Her eyes weren't cold and her demeaner was as normal as one can get in an apocalypse. Morgan would be lying if he said Tara being a woman didn't play a factor in his trust.

Soon enough, Rick began to stir and opened his eyes. Morgan leaned forward. "Finally awake,"

Rick grunted in response, still feeling a little dazed.

"Got that bandage changed. It was pretty rank,"

Rick swallow and breathed as he got his bearings. He nodded a little. "Thank you,"

"Your friend, Tara. She told me that wound is from a gunshot?"

Rick looked up to where his hands are tied to the bed. He squinted a little in thought, remembering the woman he met. He smiles a little. "So that's her name? Tara?" He looks at him.

"Yeah,"

"I was too distracted to ask…"

"She said you were in a coma,"

"I was,"

"Do you know about the walkers? The dead that woke up?"

Rick sighed, closing his eyes. He couldn't believe what he was told happened. "She told me about them,"

"So… Were you bit or anything else? Scratched maybe?"

"No. I got shot, just as far as I know,"

Morgan reaches out to him, but Rick flinches back.

"Hey, just let me," Morgan told the man. He touches Rick's forehead with the back of his hand. "Feels cool enough. Fever would've killed you by now,"

"I don't think I have one,"

"Be hard to miss," Morgan's expression turns cold and he takes out a switchblade and holds it in front of Rick's face. "Take a moment, look how sharp it is," Rick leans his head away from the knife. "You try anything, I will kill you with it and don't you think I won't,"

Morgan cuts the bungee cords he used to tie Rick to the bed. He closes the knife and pockets it.

He stands up and heads for the door to go back to his son and Tara. "Come on out when you're able,"

Rick takes a moments to gather his bearings before slowly getting off the bed. He winces, a little sore, and heads out.

Downstairs, Morgan is at the dining room table with Duane, serving a meal to Tara who accepted the food gratefully. They hear footsteps and looked to the entryway to see Rick coming in. He has a blanket over his bare shoulders and hospital shorts and is looking around.

"This place – Fred and Cindy Drakes'?"

"Never met 'em," Morgan says, setting up the plates for the four of them.

"I've been here. This is their place,"

"It was empty when we got here,"

Rick walks to the window to look outside, but before he can pull the curtain back Morgan stops him.

"Don't do that. They'll see the light. There's more of them out there than usual," He sighs. "I never should've fired that gun today. Sound draws them. Now they're all over the street. Stupid – using a gun. But it all happened so fast, I didn't think,"

Morgan picks up a large tin can with towels and sets it on the table. He picks up a sterno can and blows it out. Rick walks away from the window and to the table. Morgan sits down in the seat across from Tara.

"That man today. The one you shot…"

Morgan shrugs. "Man?"

"It weren't no man,"

Morgan glares at his son. "What the hell was that out of your mouth just now?"

Duane sighed. "It _wasn't_ a man,"

Rick nods and takes a seat across from Duane. "So. That was a – a _walker_?"

Morgan spoons food onto Rick's plate. Hungry, he spoons a mouthful but is stopped by Duane before he can eat.

"Daddy, blessing,"

Rick freezes and Morgan nods in agreement. "Yeah,"

Morgan looks at Rick. Duane takes his father's hand and Morgan puts his hand on one of Rick's. Duane reaches out for Tara's and she takes it. Rick hesitates. Duane looks at him expectantly and Tara hold's out her other hand. Rick, with disbelief, puts down the spoon and takes Tara's hand. They bow their heads.

"Lord, we thank thee for this food, thy blessings." Morgan opens his eyes and looks at Rick. "And we ask you to watch over us in these crazy days. Amen,"

Duane is the only one to repeat. "Amen,"

Tara, Rick and Duane eat.

"Hey, mister, you even know what's going on?"

Rick nods, but it's hesitant. "I know what Tara told me," He glances to her and sees that she's eating with her eyes drooping. "I woke up today in the hospital, came home. That's when I saw her and she let me know about the dead. I saw a lot of that out on the loading dock, piled in trucks. But none that were still kicking…" He eats another spoon full.

"The walkers, like the one I shot today, he'd have ripped into you, tried to eat you, taken some flesh at least,"

"They're out there now? In the street?" They can hear them growling outside.

"Yeah. They get more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air or hell, maybe it's just me firing that gun today. But we'll be fine as long as we stay quiet. Probably wander off by morning. But listen," He leans forward and points his spoon at him. "One thing I do know – don't you get bit," He returns to eating. "I saw your bandage and that's what we were afraid of. Bites kill you. The fever burns you out. But then after a while…you come back,"

Duane nods. "Seen it happen,"

The memory makes Duane sad. Morgan squeezes his arm and smiles at Duane. Tara, too, frowned at her own memories. Tara closed her eyes and felt herself falling asleep. When her head started falling she gasped and jerked back, shaking her head. The group stared at her for a moment.

"When was the last time you slept?" Morgan asked.

She shrugged. "I can't even remember," She returned to eating like nothing happened.

"Well, let's finish up and rest for the night,"

Leaning up against the wall by the dining room, Morgan sits on the sleeping pallet he and Duane share. Across the room, Rick lies on a bed made of couch cushions. He's still wrapped in his blanket. A few feet away on some heavy blankets, Tara was lying down, staring at the ceiling waiting to fall asleep. She could only guess that she has been awake for the last two days, or possibly more. It seemed like she only slept when she found a safe place to do so. But in the week since leaving her home, she rarely found a place.

The crickets chirped as she zoned out in an exhausted, half-asleep state while the others talked quietly. Just as it seemed she'd finally get to sleep, a car alarm went off and she jumped into a seated position about ready to jump for her gun.

Duane jumped to, just as startled and clung to his dad.

"Hey. It's okay. Daddy's here. It's nothing. One of them must have bumped a car,"

"Are you sure?" Both Rick and Tara asked.

Morgan nods. "It happened once before. It went on for a few minutes. Get the light, Duane,"

Rick and Morgan get up while Duane turns down the lantern light. Rick turns down the second one and Tara gets to her feet as well.

Morgan goes to the bay window at the front of the house. It's been boarded up loosely then covered with blankets to keep in the light. He carefully pulls them apart and peers outside. He stands beside Rick while Tara decides they're safe for now and slides down the wall beside her bed of blankets, choosing to simply lean against the wall rather than try sleeping again. The street outside is crowded with clumsy, shuffling corpses. Several of them walk toward a late model sedan; its lights flash in time with the alarm that had startled Duane and Tara.

"It's the blue one, on the street. The same one as last time. I think we're okay," Morgan says.

Rick looks unsure. "That noise – won't it bring more of them?"

"Nothing we can do about it now. Just have to wait 'em out till morning,"

Duane had been looking around outside when he suddenly gasps. "She's here,"

Tara peers over at him to see the young boy's shaken demeaner.

"Don't look. Get away from the windows," Morgan nudges him away. "I said go. Go on," Reluctantly, Duane leaves the window and lies on the bed in a fit of sobs.

Morgan goes over to him, not just to comfort him, but to make sure his cries aren't heard by the walkers outside.

"Duane, Duane, quiet now. Come on, quiet now. Shh shh,"

Tara felt for the boy, she really did. She felt that she could try and help comfort him with her own losses. But soon enough, she was nodding off to sleep and eventually slid to the side – curling up in a ball among the blankets against the wall.

Tara, Rick, Morgan, and Duane came out of the Drake's house the next morning. All the walkers are gone except one lying against the picket fence.

Rick looks back at the group. "Are we sure they're dead? I have to ask at least one more time,"

Morgan nods. "They're dead, except for something in the brain. That's why it's got to be the head,"

Rick approaches the walker. It slowly gets up to attack, but Rick hits it in the head over and over with a baseball bat.

Rick stops, stumbling onto his knees and groaning in pain. He's still sore from his wound and collapses to the ground. He looks like he might get sick.

"Rick, you okay?" Tara goes over to him.

He nods. "I need a moment,"

They let Rick rest for a few moments before he stands up and leads them back toward his former home. Rick walks into his house with his new companions behind him.

"They're alive – my wife and son. At least they were when they left," Rick says, bat in hand and blood splattered on the shirt Morgan gave him.

"How can you know? By the look of this place–"

"I found empty drawers in the bedroom. They packed some clothes. Not a lot, but enough to travel," Rick said, not liking what Morgan was suggesting.

"You know anybody could've broken in here and stole them clothes, right?"

Rick gestures around with the baseball bat. "You see the framed photos on the walls? Neither do I. Some random thief take those too, you think?" He goes through a nearby dresser. "Our photo albums, family pictures – all gone,"

Morgan nods and takes a seat at the table. "Tara mentioned them,"

"They're in Atlanta, I bet," Duane spoke up.

Morgan nodded. "That's right,"

"What's in Atlanta?" Tara asks, also taking a seat.

"Refugee center. A huge one they said, before the broadcast stopped. Military protection, food, shelter. They told people to go there, said it'd be safest,"

"Plus they got that disease place," Duane says.

"The Center for Disease Control. Said they were working out how to solve this thing,"

Rick walks to the kitchen, opens a cupboard and takes keys from a hook. He goes back to the group, showing the keys. "Keys to the Sherriff's Department. We can see if they have any guns we can take,"

At the police station, Rick opens a door, flooding a darkened department kitchen with light. They enter cautiously. Rick leads the way with a flash light and out through another hallway. Finally, they reach the Sherriff's Department locker room where Rick tries the showers. The water comes out clean and strong.

"Gas lines have been down for maybe a month," Morgan tells.

Rick smiles. "The station's got its own propane system," He puts his hand in the water. and smiles wider. "Pilot's still on,"

Morgan and Duane exchange happy looks and Rick turns to Tara. "We also have a separate locker room for woman. Come on, I'll show you,"

Tara nods and follows him back to the hallway and into another locker room. The two of them are careful and check for walkers before deciding it's safe and Rick leaves Tara to shower.

Tara takes a moment to breathe, sitting on the bench with her thoughts. She knew that today, she could have been dead. She was so ready to end it before Rick came along. When she saw a broken man in need, she put all her focus on something good. Helping a husband and father get back to his family. Even if there's a possibility they're already dead. But really, Tara was relieved Rick stopped her. She was afraid of her own death. She didn't like the idea of not knowing what would happen next.

Tara sniffed, finding herself with tears sliding down her cheeks and chest tightening. She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. She kept her crying quiet, but little sobs echoed around the room.

She was so deep in her own misery, that she didn't hear the growling…

A locker opened. A decaying female walker heard the sound of Tara's cries and seemingly woke up to eat. She was a petite dead woman, who had been small enough to squeeze into the locker. It crawled out and onto it's feet then stumbled toward the crying woman.

Tara thought about her family's last moments and wondered if things could have been different. Was there a chance she could have saved them?

On the other side of the room, a second walker pushed open a closet door. The walker, a large man, rounded the lockers. How they missed two of them was an act of carelessness.

"Rawr!" Tara gasps and spins around onto her feet, stumbling back a little when the male walker lunges at her from behind and trips over the bench.

"Arawr!"

Tara screams when the second one appears beside her and grabs at her. She jumps away from her, but the attempt to get away from the both of them causes her to stumble onto her back and her gun that was stashed just inside the top of her jeans gets knocked out and slides across the tile.

"Arrr!" Both walkers clamber after her and the female one grabs at her.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Tara screams again and kicks her away, getting to her feet and tries to get to her gun, but the male walker manages to grab her ankle, still lying on the floor from his fall, and she trips to the ground. Her forehead smacks against the tile with a heavy thud.

The locker room door slams open. Rick and Morgan rush in wearing only boxers. Morgan smashes the male walker's head in with his bat and Rick does the same with the other, but with the grip of his gun.

"Tara, are you okay?" Rick went to her side.

She groaned, sluggishly twisting around to sit up. She rubbed her forehead where she could tell a bump was already forming. "I didn't see them coming…"

"We should have checked better,"

Tara nods in agreement. "Lesson learned,"

"So are you okay?" Morgan asks.

Tara knew he was really asking if she was bit or something. "Yeah, I'm good," She stands up. "Thanks. I just wanna shower and get out of here,"

After they showered, Rick lead them to a weapon cage.

"A lot of its gone missing," He says, taking a rifle down and checks it out.

Duane looks at all the guns. "Daddy, can I learn to shoot? I'm old enough,"

"Hell yes, you're gonna learn, but we've got to do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon,"

"That's right," Rick agrees. "It's not a toy. You pull the trigger, you have to mean it. Always remember that, Duane,"

"Yes, Sir,"

Tara checks out a Smith & Wesson gun and moves around Rick to grab it eagerly. Rick can't help but smile and shake his head at her look of amazement. As if it were Christmas.

"So Tara, how did you learn to shoot?" He asks her.

"Police Academy," She says casually.

"You're a police officer?"

She sighs. "No. I didn't get to graduate before all this crap started,"

Morgan grabs a weapon bag and puts it on the table. "Here. Load up,"

Rick picks up a Remington rifle with a scope. He checks out the sight before he hands it to Morgan. "You take that one. Nothing fancy, the scope's accurate," Morgan looks intently at Rick and checks the weapon. Duane loads ammo and Rick checks out a shot gun.

Once they finished packing up weapons and ammo, Rick, his hands full, kicks open the outside door and walks up a flight of steps to ground level. Morgan and Duane walk with him. They are similarly burdened. Tara follows behind with a backpack filled with a separate stash for her and Rick.

"Conserve your ammo. It goes faster than you think, especially at target practice," Rick tells Morgan and Duane.

Morgan nods. "Duane?"

"Uh-huh?"

He gives Duane a bag. "Take this to the car,"

"Okay,"

"Are you sure you won't come along?" Rick asks.

"We can help each other out," Tara says.

"A few more days. By then Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty,"

Rick opens the car door; Morgan looks around to check on Duane. Rick grabs a walkie-talkie. It clicks on in a static noise.

"You've got one battery. I'll turn mine on a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you'll find me,"

Morgan smiles and accepts it. "You think ahead,"

"Can't afford not to. Not anymore,"

"Listen, one thing," Morgan looks at the two intently. "They may not seem like much one at a time, but in a group, all riled up and hungry – Man you watch your asses,"

"You too," He and Rick clasp hands.

"You're a good man, Rick. I hope you find your wife and son,"

He and Tara clasp hands next. "Stay alive," Tara says. "I hope to see you and Duane soon,"

"We hope so too,"

"Be seeing you, Duane," Rick nods to the boy and they shake hands. "Take care of your old man,"

"Yes sir,"

"Nice meeting you little man," Tara smiles and holds out a fist. Duane smiles and fist bumps her.

As they are about to leave Morgan looks over Rick's shoulder. Seeing his demeanor change Rick turns around. A walker, in a sheriff's uniform, approaches from the street, a restraint chain hangs from his left hand.

"Leon Basset?" Rick recognizes the man. Morgan pulls Duane close. "I didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb, but I can't leave him like this.

The walker growls. It's stopped by a chain link gate topped with razor wire.

"You know they'll hear the shot,"

"Let's not be here when they show up,"

Morgan ushers his son away and to the car while Rick and Tara stay behind. Rick looks to his new companion. "Here. Start the car so we can leave in a hurry," He holds out a set of keys.

Tara takes them with a small smile. "Can I drive?"

"Do you know how?"

Tara scoffs. "Do I know how…" She rolls her eyes and heads to the car.

Once in the Deputy's car, Tara watches in the rearview mirror as Rick says his goodbyes to the dead cop he once knew, then shoots him in the forehead.

"Wait, pull over here,"

Tara does as she's told. "Why?"

Rick gets out and walks onto the grass. Tara watches him examine an area. He puts on his hat and looks deeper into the park. Rick walks across green grass and through shady trees. The clover studded lawns are empty. He keeps searching, then Tara loses sight of him.

Rick has walked further into the trees. He is walking along in the green of the trees. The walker he was searching for has left a darkened trail across the grass as it's worked its way through the trees. Rick kneels beside it.

In the park the half walker in the grass senses Rick, turns and reaches weakly up toward him, growling.

Rick looks on in sympathy. "I'm sorry this happened to you,"

He takes out his gun, braces himself and shoots her through the head. He tears up, visibly shaken. Rick walks away from the now silent corpse and back to Tara.

She notices when he sits back in the passenger seat that he's slightly distraught. "You okay?"

He nods. "Yeah. Let's just head to Atlanta,"

Tara drives the patrol car out and onto a paved country road past houses and fields. Beside her, Rick has a radio that crackles alive.

"Broadcasting on Emergency Channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85. Anybody reads, please respond," Rick speaks into it then waits a few moments before trying again. "Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Anybody out there? Anybody hears me, please respond. Hello, can you hear my voice?" He waits again. "Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice?"

"Are you sure that works?" Tara asks.

"Yes. Well, as long as someone else has one…" He speaks again. "Can you hear my voice? If anybody reads please respond,"

Rick continues to talk over the radio, repeating again and again where they are headed and if anyone is out there.

"Uh-oh," Tara sighs as the car slows down to a complete stop some miles later. "We're out of gas,"

"I have a gas can in the truck," Rick says. "We'll walk from here. Maybe we'll find something helpful,"

Tara nods and gets out of the car. Rick pulls down his visor to look at his photo of him, his wife, and their son attached to the inside. He takes the photo down and puts it in his uniform pocket.

Tara opens the trunk and Rick helps gather their things. They abandon the car, walking down the highway with their ammo bags and a gas can. They're silent, for the most part. But after a while, Rick finally talks.

"So, how's your head?"

Tara shrugs. "The bump hurts, but I'm cool,"

"Thanks again for volunteering to come with me. It's probably safer to travel together anyway,"

"I'm sure you didn't need me. It's not like I was busy or anything,"

He nods, then hesitantly talks. "Tara. When we first met… Were you about to–"

"No. Rick," Tara's voice tightened, and Rick suddenly felt a coldness between them.

"Okay," He decided now wasn't the best time to confront her almost suicide. She was probably lost in this apocalypse and thought it was best at the time.

They finally stop in the driveway of a farm house and head closer. "Hello? Police officer out here. Can I borrow some gas?" He calls out, nearing the front porch.

Tara scoffs. "Dude. This world is shit. Whoever is in there is probably dead," She takes a few steps closer and calls out a little louder than Rick. "Hey! Anybody alive in there?"

Rick leaves his bags in the driveway and walks toward the house where he puts the gas can down, too. Rick walks up the front steps to the door. "Hello?" He knocks on the door. "Hello? Anybody home?"

He peers in through the door window but doesn't see anyone. He walks down the porch and looks into another window and finally the living room window. Flies are buzzing around inside the house. Rick, horrified, sees a man on the couch, gunshot to his head, a shotgun dropped nearby. On the floor is a woman, also shot dead. On the wall above the couch is a message written in blood. It reads… _God forgive us. _Rick recoils, shaken. He goes back into the yard and sits down under a tree and spits.

Tara follows and stands in front of him. "Well?"

"Dead," Looking up he sees a pickup truck. He stands and Tara follows him to search the truck. They don't find the keys inside and Rick starts walking back to the house.

Tara stops in her tracks and smiles. In a short distance, she spots a beautiful, light brown horse. It neighs, alerting Rick.

Ricks laughs. "Well look at that," He goes searching around the truck and finds a lead, goes through the field gate and approaches the horse. It neighs again.

"Easy now. Easy," He calms the animal down. "I'm not gonna hurt you, nothing like that. More like a proposal," He smiles. "Atlanta's just down the road a ways. It's safe there – food, shelter, people," He's gently petting his neck. "Other horses too, I bet. How's that sound?"

Tara smiles at how Rick is communicating with the horse.

He puts the rope around his neck. "There we go. Good boy. Good boy. Good boy. Now come with me. Come on. Come on. Good boy,"

With the lead around its neck the horse lets Rick take him to the barn to be saddled. Tara chooses to stay put. Minutes later, Rick is up on horseback. He rides up to Tara and she hesitates. Rick holds out his hand.

"Coming?"

She crosses her arms. "I don't know. I've never ridden a horse before,"

"It'll be okay," She still hesitates. "Are you afraid of heights?"

She sighs. "More like afraid of falling," She grabs his hand and puts her foot in the holder. "I'm a bit accident prone…"

He pulls her up and behind him. She wraps her arms around his torso and he can feel her tense up.

"Just hang on tight and you won't fall off,"

"Okay," She tightens her hold.

Rick makes the horse go forward. "Just go easy, okay?" He says to it. "I haven't done this for years,"

Horse takes off at a run. "Whoa, whoa whoa whoa!" Tara gasps and tightens her hold even more.

The horse neighs and begins to run.

"Easy now. Easy boy, easy. Easy. Easy. Easy. Eas – Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa,"

Rick walks the horse into the town across a bridge and over paved streets lined with skyscrapers. As Rick, Tara, and the horse go deeper into Atlanta the streets become littered with trash, wrecked cars, abandoned cars, and even a helicopter left in the middle of the street. They ride past a crashed bus. A few walkers sitting in the bus are roused and begin to follow them, growling.

The horse whinnies at the walkers and Rick urges him to a canter. "Steady," He tells him.

"There's just a few. Nothing we can't outrun. Okay whoa whoa whoa,"

Far enough away from the walkers Rick slows the horse and turns down a different street. He walks past a tank, overturned vehicles and an abandoned roadblock. Crows are scavenging on a soldier's remains up on the tank. As Rick walks the horse past the tank they hear a helicopter. They look up and around, searching for it. Rick sees the helicopter reflected in the windows of a skyscraper.

"Hyah!"

The horse, urged to a run, neighs and takes off. Rick runs the horse down the street with his eyes up in the air on the craft. He turns the corner where the street is full of walkers and Tara gasps.

She speaks quietly to Rick. "This doesn't look good,"

The walkers catch sight of the duo and begin toward them, growling.

The horse rears in disgust and, unprepared, Tara's grip loosens and she falls back with a quiet shriek. She slams into the ground.

"Tara!"

Fear and adrenalin coursing through her veins, Tara ignores the pain from her fall and grabs Rick's outstretched hand to pull her back on as fast as possible. She holds onto him tighter and Rick turns the horse around, running him back the way they came with the walkers following after. Rick approaches the tank which is now surrounded by more walkers.

"Oh shit. Oh God," He's panicking now and Tara is breathing heavier, freaking out with him.

Every way is blocked by walkers who are now close enough they start tearing into the horse. "Rick!"

Tara feels herself wanting to scream, but she holds it in. Last thing they needed was more walkers running at them. Rick tries to keep his seat and find a way out but the walkers' attack sends the horse into a panic.

"Oh God,"

"Shit!"

Rick loses his own grip on the horse's reins, making him slide back on the horse and pushing Tara off. They slam into the ground, dropping their gear and Rick landing on Tara. She cries out in pain. Most of the walkers are too busy with the horse to notice so Rick grips Tara's arm and kicks away the one walker closest to them.

"Run!" He urges her, forcing her on her feet. They look up and see another crowd of walkers in front of him.

"Shoot,"

"Shit shit shit,"

They run until Rick pushes Tara to crawl under the tank and follows after her, but walkers follow them from all sides and Tara finally screams in horror.

"Oh God. Oh God," Rick pulls out his gun and shoots at the nearest walkers until he has only one bullet left. Tara pulls out her own gun and does the same.

"Rick!" Tara and Rick scramble as close as they can together and as far away from the walkers as they could.

"Tara, I'm sorry. I think this is it!" He puts the gun to his own temple and closes his eyes tight. "Lori, Carl, I'm sorry,"

"Wait!" Tara stops him and suddenly climbs up into the tank through an open hatch, Rick takes Tara's hand and she helps pull him in. She quickly closes it behind them. Rick crawls as far away from the hatch as he can till he's up against the side while Tara sits opposite of him on the other side of the hatch.

They're both panting.

Rick is now sitting beside a dead soldier and a grenade on a shelf.

"Oh… God," Rick shakes his head in revulsion.

Rick reaches for the soldier's gun, a Beretta 92, which rouses the walker. He turns snarling at Rick.

Reacting in fear, Rick shoots the walker in the head. The gunshot echoes, temporarily deafening Rick and Tara. The ringing in her ears is too much for her and makes her fall back unconscious.

"Tara? Tara, you okay?" He shakes himself out of his daze and sees the top hatch is open. He quickly climbs up and looks out.

He sees all the walkers hanging around and his bag of guns and his hat on the ground. The ringing finally fades from his ears. Walkers notice him and start climbing the tank. Rick goes back down, closing the hatch behind him. The walkers can be heard through the tank. Rick checks the gun clip and looks around to see if there's more before crawling over to Tara.

He shakes her a little, but she only moans and rolls to her side. He's relieved to see she's not dead. He carefully checks the rest of her body to make sure she wasn't bitten, making sure to not cross boundaries, before sitting back down and letting her rest. He had seen her wake up a couple times throughout the night at Morgan's. He had tried asking if she was okay, but she would just sit up, look around, then fall back asleep. He's pretty sure she wasn't even aware.

He had no idea what they were going to do. At this point, there was probably no hope for them.

Then suddenly, he hears a radio cackling.

"_Hey, you. Dumb asses. Yeah, you two in the tank. Are you cozy in there?"_

Rick stares at the radio, unable to believe it.


	2. Chapter 2 - Guts

Chapter Two: Guts

The streets and intersection where the tank is parked is still crowded with walkers. A group of them are swarming the horse's corpse. Many are leaving the tank to eat the horse's remains, but a few still beat on the top hatch.

Inside the tank, the radio beeps and hisses. Rick hears the radio broadcasting again and sits up from his leaned position.

"_Hey, are you alive in there?"_

At the sound of the voice, Rick starts and lurches for the C.B. radio hanging on the wall.

Rick bangs his head against the tank. "Ow," He groans and falls back for a second, but doesn't let it slow him down. He grabs thes radio and speaks into it urgently. "Hello? Hello?"

Nearby, Tara begins to stir and Rick sighs in relief – speaking away from the radio.

"Tara. Are you okay?"

She sits up, groaning. "My ass is sore, my head hurts, and I think I sprained my wrist, but I'm cool… What the hell happened?"

"_There you are. You had me wondering,"_

Tara jumps in surprise. "Holy crap, who's that?"

Rick doesn't answer her right away and talks to the man instead. "Where are you? Outside? Can you see us right now?"

"_Yeah, I can see you. You're surrounded by walkers. That's the bad news,"_

"There's good news?"

"_No,"_

"Listen, whoever you are, I don't mind telling you I'm a little concerned in here,"

"_Oh man. You should see it from over here. You'd be having a major freak-out,"_

"Got any advice for me?"

"_Yeah, I'd say make a run for it,"_

Rick and Tara exchange perplexed looks. "That's it? Make a run for it?"

"_My way's not as dumb as it sounds. You've got eyes on the outside here. There's one geek still up on the tank but the others have climbed down and joined the feeding frenzy where the horse went down. You with me so far?_

"So far,"

"_Okay, the street on the other side of the tank is less crowded. If you move now while they're distracted, you stand a chance. Got ammo?"_

"In our bags we dropped out there, and guns. Can I get to it?"

"_Forget the bags, okay? It's not an option. What do you have on you?"_

"Hang on," Rick hurriedly checks his hand gun and the one he took from the soldier's corpse. Rick counts his bullets and goes back to the dead soldier to check his pockets. Rick sees the hand grenade on the shelf and he takes it, thinking hard about how useful the explosive could be.

Tara counts her own bullets and finds a half empty case.

Rick goes back to the radio. "Yeah. Yeah. I've got a berretta with one clip, 15 rounds,"

"I have 10 rounds,"

"_Make 'em count. Jump off the right side of the tank, keep going in that direction. There's an alley up the street, maybe 50 yards. Be there,"_

"Hey, what's your name?"

"_Have you been listening? You're running out of time,"_

"Right," Rick grabs a small shovel off the wall of the tank and looks at Tara who gets ready to escape. "Ready?"

"Yeah,"

He hustles up the ladder and opens the top hatch, quickly looking around; one walker sees him immediately and he hits him across the face with the shovel. He climbs out on top and Tara hurries after him. "Okay, go," He urges Tara to jump down off the tank while he follows close behind.

She underestimated the height and lands hard on her ankle. "Ah!"

"Shit," Rick, more cautiously, jumps to the ground. Tara bounces on her uninjured leg while shaking the pain away from the other one uselessly. "Come on, we gotta go,"

"Yeah, I know,"

Tara fights through the pain and they run up the street toward the alley, shooting the walkers who are closest to them. They run into the alley, shooting as they go, and veer left into the face of the man on the radio. Tara jumps back, gun still up and pointing at the man.

"Whoa! Not dead! Come on! Come on!"

They run back into the alley. Tara and Rick shoot the walkers closest to them.

"Back here!"

The walkers flood through a chain-link fence after them.

"Come on! Come on!"

Tara shoots another walker.

The man starts climbing a fire escape ladder that leads almost straight up to the top of the building. Rick, out of ammo, looks around at the walkers closing in on them.

"I'm out," Tara told him, trying to trigger her empty gun.

"What are you doing? Come on!" The walkers growl and Rick pushes Tara to climb up first with him following closely behind. Rick makes it up a few steps before a walker gets hold of his foot. He struggles for a minute before kicking it's head in.

"Come on, get up," Glenn helps Tara to her feet on a platform, followed by Rick. They stop to catch their breath.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood," He comments to Rick. "You the new Sheriff come riding in to clean up the town with your deputy," They can tell the young Asian isn't happy with them.

"It wasn't our intention,"

"Yeah. Whatever," He rolls his eyes. "Yeehaw. You're still dumbasses,"

Rick doesn't comment, but sticks his hand out. "Rick. Thanks,"

He shakes it. "Glenn. You're welcome,"

"Tara," She shakes his hand too.

Rick puts the Beretta into Glenn's backpack while Glenn is looking down at the walkers. "Oh no,"

Walkers have mobbed the bottom of the ladder and threaten to overwhelm it. Glenn and Rick look up the rest of the way. The ladder extends straight up several stories without any breaks.

"The bright side: It'll be the fall that kills us. I'm a glass-half-full kind of guy,"

Glenn starts climbing, followed by Rick. Tara hesitates, still looking up, and Rick stops. "You okay?"

Tara breathes and nods. She follows behind Rick. Tara just hoped she could keep her clumsiness at bay until they finish the climb.

Tara's relieved when they've scaled the ladder and walked across a bridge between buildings. They hop over a small wall.

"Are you the one that barricaded the alley?" Rick asks Glenn.

"Somebody did – I guess when the city got overrun," They begin to hustle faster. "Whoever did it was thinking not many geeks would get through,"

Glenn opens a hatch that leads down into the building they are on top of.

"Back at the tank. Why'd you stick your neck out for us?"

"Call it foolish, naïve hope…" Glenn starts, dropping his bag down the hatch and starting to climb down. "…that if I'm ever that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me. Guess I'm an even bigger dumbass than you,"

Rick and Tara follow Glenn down into the building, closing the door behind them. They look all around to make sure it's clear before they hurry through the building and out into another alley and down some stairs.

Glenn talks into the walkie. "I'm back. Got two guests plus four geeks in the alley,"

Four walkers are wandering around. They spot the trio and make their way over. Two men suddenly burst through a door wearing riot gear and holding baseball bats. They run up and beat down the closest walkers before anyone can be bitten.

"Let's go!" Glenn urges them and they run to the door, hopping over the beaten walker.

"Morales, let's go!" One of the calls and the two run back in and close the door behind them.

Suddenly a woman angrily pushes Rick back into a stack of boxes and shoves a gun in his face. A second woman is in the room, too.

"Shit," Tara raises her gun at the blonde one, even though she knew she had no bullets. "Put the gun down!" She demands.

The woman doesn't even acknowledge her. "You son of a bitch! We ought to kill you,"

"Just chill out, Andrea. Back off," Morales orders.

"Let's all just ease up," The black woman says, holding up her hands to show she's not a threat to the brunette woman aiming at Andrea.

"Tara, it's okay," Rick tells the woman. "Lower the gun,"

Tara doesn't at first, but eventually listens, trusting Rick to know what he's doing.

Andrea continues to narrow her eyes at the man. "Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole and his girlfriend!"

Tara rolls her eyes and mutters. "Not his girlfriend…"

The Hispanic man, Morales, was persistent. "Andrea, I said back the hell off,"

Andrea doesn't. Rick leans as far back as he can but doesn't give her any more reason to shoot him.

Morales sighs in annoyance. "Well, pull the trigger,"

Not able to actually do it, she finally pulls away from Rick and starts crying. "We're dead – all of us – because of you,"

"I don't understand," Rick says.

Morales grabs Rick by the arm and Andrea grabs Tara. They lead them through the store to some windows, where walkers crowded the area and threatened to break the glass. "Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving! You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing. Not shooting up the streets like it's the O.K. Corral,"

One of the men, dark skinned with a gap in his front teeth, spoke angrily. "Every geek for miles around heard you popping off rounds,"

"You just rang the dinner bell," Andrea says.

"Get the picture now?" The Hispanic man asks.

Rick is stunned by the threatening number of walkers.

"Shit," Tara breaths.

The walkers are growling hungrily and banging on the glass. They see it cracking faster as one the walkers smash a rock on it.

"Oh God," Andrea shakes her head in worry.

The group backs away and gets more out of sight.

Andrea turns to the new survivors. "What the Hell were you two doing out there anyway?"

"Trying to flag the helicopter," Rick answers.

"Helicopter? Man, that's crap. Ain't no damn helicopter," The black man, T-Dog, admonitions.

"You were chasing a hallucination. Imagining things. It happens," The black woman with short hair, Jacqui, stated.

Rick's insistent. "We saw it," He looks to Tara for confirmation and she nods.

"Hey, T-Dog, try that C.B. Can you contact the others?" Morales questions.

Rick and Tara light up.

"The refugee center?" Tara asks.

Jacqui rolls her eyes. "Yeah, the refugee center. They've got biscuits waiting at the oven for us,"

T-Dog ignored Tara. "Got no signal. Maybe the roof,"

They hear a gun firing.

"Oh no. Is that Dixon?" Andrea says, annoyed.

Jacqui sighs. "What is that maniac doing?"

"Come on, let's go," Glenn leads the group to the stairs leading up to the roof. The original members of the group throw open the door and they all hurry over to a man who has a scoped rifle pointing down. He aims and fires. Dixon continues to shoot. Morales is the first to reach the man.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?"

Dixon laughs and fires the gun again.

"Oh Jeez," Andrea groans.

Dixon laughs and turns to the group gleefully. "Hey! Y'all be more polite to a man with a gun! Huh?" He jumps down off the low wall that runs around the roof with a grunt. "Only common sense,"

T-Dog goes up to him. "Man, you wasting bullets we ain't even got, man!"

He only laughs.

"And you're bringing even more of them down on our ass! Man, just chill,"

"Hey, bad enough I've got this taco bender on my ass all day. Now I'm gonna take orders from you? I don't think so, bro. That'll be the day,"

"_'That'll be the day'_? You got something you want to tell me?"

"Hey, T-Dog man, just leave it," Morales tries to stop a fight he sees coming.

"No," T-Dog refuses.

"All right? It ain't worth it," He persists. "Now Merle, just relax, okay? We've got enough trouble,"

Rick looks questioningly at Glenn. Glenn shakes his head and motions for Rick to leave it alone.

"You want to know the day?" Merle and T-Dog continue.

"Yeah," T-Dog and Merle face off with each other.

"I'll tell you the day, Mr. _'Yo.'_ It's the day I take orders from a nigger,"

"Mother–"

T-Dog throws a punch, Merle dodges it and slams the base of his shotgun into his face. The others start shouting at him to stop. Merle drops his gun and grabs T-Dogs shirt to keep him from backing up.

"Hey, come on Merle, that's enough," says Morales.

Merle punches T-Dog in the face as Rick jumps on and over a large pipe and down to try and stop Merle, but Merle sees and turns. He punches Rick too and Tara instinctively steps up and manages a tough punch to the side of Merle's head. Merle stumbles to the side a little but Tara's hit wasn't strong enough to stun him and he turns to her angrily.

"Stupid Bitch," He charges at her, making her run backwards in surprise and trip on nothing, falling back and onto the ground.

This makes everyone shout louder at seeing the younger woman about to get hurt.

Rick shakes of his daze and gets to his feet just as Merle's fist is about to hit Tara.

Andrea screams at the racist asshole. "Merle!"

Rick yanks hard on the back of Merle's shirt and makes him miss Tara by just an inch. Rick roughly slams him back into the pipe and punches him to make him stop fighting back. He pulls out handcuffs to attach Merle to the pipe on the roof.

Merle grunts.

Rick pulls Dixon up by his shirt and gets in his face.

"Who the hell are you man?" Merle demands.

"Officer Friendly," Rick growls in his face.

Tara breathes and sits up, thankful Rick prevented her face from being smashed in. Rick reaches around takes Merle's gun and removing the clip he turns back to Dixon, crouched on the ground.

"Look here, Merle. Things are different now. There are no Niggers anymore. No dumb-as-shit, inbred white-trash fools either. Only dark meat and white meat. There's us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together, not apart,"

"Screw you, man,"

Rick points Merle's gun at Merle's temple. "Ought to be polite to a man with a gun. Only common sense," He throws Merle's words back in his face.

Dixon doesn't let his fear show. "You wouldn't. You're a cop,"

Rick lowers the gun. "All I am anymore is a man looking for his wife and son. Anybody that gets in the way of that is gonna lose. I'll give you a moment to think about that," Rick sees something on Dixon's face. He pats Merle down.

Rick finds a white powder in Merle's pocket. He looks closely at Merle's face. "Got some on your nose there," He flicks Merle's nose for emphasis.

Dixon smirks and chuckles. "What are you gonna do? Arrest me?"

Rick walks to the side of the building.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

He tosses the packet into the air off the side.

"Man that was my stuff! Hey!"

Merle grunts in anger "If I get loose, you'd better pray – yeah, you hear me, you pig?! You hear me?"

Rick rolls his eyes. "Yeah, your voice carries,"

Tara stands with an amused smirk.

"Do you hear me, you filthy pig?!"

Rick walks to the wall and flexes his hand in pain. He stops when Tara and Morales joins him.

"You're not Atlanta P.D. Where you from?"

"Up the road a ways," He answers.

"You too?" He asks Tara.

"I'm from Atlanta, actually,"

"So you must know the streets, right?"

"Yeah,"

He smiles at them. "Well, Officer Friendly, from up the road a ways; and Tara of Atlanta; welcome to the big city,"

Thunder rumbles, seemingly echoing around the city while Walkers moan on the ground. Morales, Rick, and Tara look out at the streets full of walkers. Andrea and Jacqui are looking over the side, too.

Andrea looks in disbelief. "God, it's like Times Square down there,"

"How's that signal?" Morales asks T-Dog.

"Like Dixon's brain – weak," He answers.

Dixon gives T-Dog the finger.

"Keep trying,"

"Why?" Andrea laughs in defeat. "There's nothing they can do. Not a damn thing," She looks at Rick and walks angrily away.

"Got some people outside the city is all," Morales explains her attitude. "There's no refugee center. That's a pipe dream,"

"Then she's right. We're on our own. It's up to us to find a way out," Rick looks out at the city, hoping to spot a way out.

"Good luck with that. These streets ain't safe in this part of town from what I hear," Merle scoffs. He turns to Andrea. "Ain't that right, sugar tits?" The blonde woman ignores him. "Hey, Honeybunch, what say you get me out of these cuffs; we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway,"

She shakes her head in disgust. "I'd rather," She stands up from ruffling through her bag and walks away.

Merle nods. "Rug muncher. I figured as much,"

Tara, who was listening in, narrowed her eyes at him and Merle meets her eyes.

"What about you? You a rug muncher or wanna get me out of these? I can make you beg me for forgiveness after that punch you threw,"

Her glare darkens and Merle has to admit she looks ready to kill. "Like she said… Rather be dead,"

Morales scoffs at Merle's words moments earlier. "_'The streets ain't safe.' _Now there's an understatement,"

"What about under the streets? The sewers?" Rick notes.

"Oh man. Hey, Glenn, check the alley. You see any manhole covers?"

Glenn goes over to the other ledge and scans the alley where a few random walkers wait. He walks back. "No. Must be all out on the street where the geeks are,"

"Maybe not," Jacqui finally speaks up, able to offer some helpful information. "Old building like this. Built in the twenties. Big structures often had drainage tunneled into the sewers in case of flooding down in the subbasements,"

"How do you know that?" Glenn asks.

"It's my job – was. I worked in the city zoning office,"

"I think I know where it is," Glenn headed inside, the others quickly following.

Down inside the building Jacqui, Andrea, Morales, Glenn, Rick, and Tara peer down the steep stairwell that leads underground. T-Dog opted to stay on the roof for the signal.

"This is it? Are you sure?" Morales asks.

Glenn nods. "I really scoped this place out the other times I was here. It's the only thing in the building that goes down. But I've never gone down it. Who'd want to, right?" He says anxiously.

They all look at Glenn and he sighs. "Oh. Great,"

"We'll be right behind you," Andrea assures him.

Glenn shakes his head urgently. "No, you won't. Not you,"

"Why not me? Think I can't?" She demands.

"I wasn't–" Glenn defends himself, but shakes his head. Unsure.

"Speak your mind," Rick encourages him.

He nods. "Look, until now I always came here by myself– In and out, grab a few things –no problem. The first time I bring a group – Everything goes to Hell," He looks at the group. "No offense. If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine– But only if we do it my way. It's tight down there. If I run into something and have to get out quick, I don't want you all jammed up behind me getting me killed. I'll take one person," He looks to Rick, knowing he'll volunteer. "Not you either. You've got Merle's gun and I've seen you shoot. I'd feel better if you were out in that store watching those doors, covering our ass," He looks at Andrea. "And you've got the only other gun, so you should go with him. Tara too, as back up." He turns to Morales. "You be my wingman. Jacqui stays here. Something happens, yell down to us, get us back up here in a hurry,"

She nods. "Okay,"

"Okay, everybody knows their jobs," Rick pats his shoulder in agreement.

Glenn, with a flashlight in his mouth, goes down first, Morales follows after him. The water splashes when they reach the bottom. They turn their flashlights down the tunnel. The hear rats squeaking as they follow the tunnel, looking for the sewer connection.

Tara, Rick, and Andrea enter the sales room floor where the walkers are at the plate glass doors, banging and growling.

"Sorry about earlier…" Andrea speaks to the Rick and Tara. "With the gun,"

"People do things when they're afraid," Rick answers.

Tara shrugs. "I'm just glad you didn't shoot,"

"Same with you,"

Tara smirks. "I was out of bullets anyway," With another shrug, she walks away to keep a solid eye on the walkers, who were slowly breaking the glass. Tara's chest tightens with a bad feeling of anticipation. The glass wouldn't hold forever, or even for the next hour by the look of it. They really needed to find a way out.

Tara looked back at Rick. He and Andrea were talking quietly when she sees her hand him her gun and flip the safety off. Tara smiles, having noticed that early too. Probably not as fast as her companion though.

Rick walks over to Tara, also examining the windows.

Tara exhales, heavy with worry. "I'd say we got an hour. If we're lucky,"

Rick nods in agreement. "Let me know if that shortens," He walks away and back to Andrea.

"Yes, Sir," Tara mutters, only a little annoyed at being ordered around.

Tara takes the time to herself to sit on the ground and stretch a little and massage her bruised ankle and wrist from her earlier falls. He eyes remain on the hungry walkers, however. The more cracks that appear in the glass, the more tense she got. It wasn't long before they seemed to break faster and Tara jumps to her feet.

"Rick!"

The other two turn to her fast just as the glass shatters and the walkers reach the inner doors. Rick and Andrea take up positions, their guns aimed and ready. Morales, Jacqui and Glenn run up behind them and next to Tara, who Rick had forced back because she was without bullets in her gun.

"What did you find down there?" Rick asks Morales.

"Not a way out,"

"We need to find a way… and soon," Andrea says desperately.

Back on the roof, thunder roars over the city. The group is looking out at the city, hoping desperately for the answer to their escape. Rick is the one to think of something.

"That construction site, those trucks – they always keep keys on hand,"

He hands the binoculars to Morales. He looks at the site and then looks down at the street below. "You'll never make it past the walkers,"

Rick turns to Glenn. "You got me out of that tank,"

"Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted,"

"Can we distract them again?"

Dixon laughs. "Right. Listen to him. He's onto something. A diversion, like on "Hogan's Heroes."

Jacqui rolls her eyes. "God. Give it a rest,"

Rick ignores the man. "They're drawn by sound, right?"

"Right, like dogs. They hear a sound, they come," Glenn answers.

"What else?"

"Aside from they hear you?" Morales adds. "They see you, smell you and if they catch you, they eat you,"

"They can tell us by smell?"

"Can't you?" Glenn questions.

Andrea nods. "They smell dead, we don't. It's pretty distinct,"

"If bad ideas were an Olympic event, this would take the gold,"

Back in the department store, Rick grabs several pairs of rubber gloves and hands them out.

"He's right. Just stop, okay? Take some time to think this through," Morales pleads with Rick.

"How much time? They already got through one set of doors, that glass won't hold forever," He tosses a raincoat to Glenn, who's noticeably unhappy with this plan.

"It'll work," Tara pats Glenn on the shoulder to give him a little more courage to get through this.

Rick and Morales burst through the door into the alley. Glenn holds a bat and stands guard near the door. They quickly grab a walker body from the ground and rush back inside.

Rick has added a clear plastic face shield to his raincoat and rubber gloves. It's pushed up on his head. He looks around at the others and sighs. He lowers the shield and with a crowbar turns to the fire axe on the wall, and smashes the glass.

Everyone is wearing rubber gloves and raincoats. They are grouped around the corpse. Rick gets a running start with the axe and swings it but pulls back at the last second. He drops the axe, takes off the head shield and his gloves. He checks the corpse's pockets and pulls out his wallet.

"Wayne Dunlap, Georgia license. Born in 1979,"

Rick hands the license to Glenn.

He searches the body again. "He had twenty-eight dollars in his pocket when he died and a picture of a pretty girl. _'With love, from Rachel.'_ He used to be like us – worrying about bills or the rent or the Super Bowl. If I ever find my family, I'm gonna tell them about Wayne,"

He puts the wallet back and puts his gear back on.

"One more thing," Glenn stops him from axing the dead man after reading his license. "He was an organ donor,"

The group exchanges looks of sympathy for the walker they were about to hack open.

Rick heaves the axe at the corpse of Wayne Dunlap, grunting with effort.

"Oh!" Andrea covers her mouth in disgust.

"Madre de Dios!"

"Oh! God! Gack!"

Rick continues chopping off legs, arms and through the torso while everyone gags in horror.

"I'm gonna barf," Tara gags, looking away and holding her stomach and fighting the urge to throw up.

Rick looks ill, but he shakes it off and hits again.

Finally finished, Rick takes off his shield and holds his nose with the elbow of his coat for a moment. He hands it and the axe to Morales.

"Keep chopping," He tells.

Glenn groans. "I am so gonna hurl,"

"Later," Rick says and Morales chops away. "Everybody got gloves? Don't get any on your skin or in your eyes,"

They all stoop down and pick up guts and decayed flesh and organs. They all groan. Rick starts smearing his raincoat, Jacqui helps Glenn do the same, and everyone takes turns covering Glenn and Rick with the walker guts. Andrea drapes intestines over Glenn's shoulders.

"Oh, God! Oh jeez. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad," Glenn feels himself about to upchuck.

"Think about something else – puppies and kittens,"

"Dead puppies and kittens,"

Glenn turns around and vomits.

Andrea struggles to let herself breathe around the smell. "That is just evil. What is wrong with you?" She says to T-Dog.

"Next time let the cracker beat his ass," Jacqui says to Rick, he glances at T-Dog.

"I'm sorry, yo,"

"You suck," Glenn shakes his head at him.

Rick steps back. "Do we smell like them?"

"Oh yeah," Andrea says. She steps up to Glenn. "Glenn. Just in case…" She gingerly puts her gun into Glenn's front pocket.

"If we make it back, be ready," Rick tells the group.

"What about Merle Dixon?" T-Dog asks.

Rick pulls the handcuff keys out of his pocket and tosses it to T-Dog.

"Give me the axe. We need – we need more guts,"

"Oh God!"

Rick and Glenn sneak out the door and hurry to the street full of walkers.

The rest of the group runs up the stairs to the rooftop.

"Hey, what's happening, man?" Merle asks, startled by the groups urgency.

Morales doesn't look away from the streets as he looks for Rick and Glenn among the dead using their binoculars. "Hey, T-Dog, try that C.B.,"

Merle shakes and pulls on his handcuffs while trying to get answers. "Hey, come on. Talk to me y'all,"

"Base Camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?"

Morales follows Rick and Glenn's progress through the binoculars.

"Can anybody out there hear me?"

Morales finally spots them and points. "There,"

"That asshole is out on the street with the handcuff keys?" Merle asks in frustrated disbelief.

Sitting up against the rock railing of the roof, T-Dog shows Merle that he has it and is satisfied to see a look of regret on the man's face. Tara smirks as the karmic justice.

T-Dog lifts the radio to his mouth. "Hello, base camp! Can anybody out there hear me?" He waits, but gets no response. He tries again. "Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?

_"Repeat, repeat,"_ Finally came an answer.

"Shane, is that you? We're in deep shit. We're trapped in the department store. There are geeks all over the place. Hundreds of 'em. We're surrounded," He heard a muffled response but couldn't make it out. "I didn't get that. Repeat,"

All they get is static.

Up on the roof Morales looks for Rick and Glenn through the binoculars. Then they hear the rain patter around them and he looks around at the forming rain clouds.

"Oh man," He lifts up the binoculars again and finds Rick and Glenn.

Glenn and Rick are slowly shuffling along. They are still half a block away from the construction site's security fence. Thunder continues to rumble. On the roof, Andrea watches them through the rain, crying silently. Knowing the rain would undoubtedly put them in danger.

"It's just a cloudburst," Morales told, trying to stay positive. "We get 'em all the time. It'll pass real quick,"

"Yeah," Tara agrees, but is unsure just how quick it'll end.

Down on the street Rick and Glenn continue on in the rain. Walkers start to stop their shuffling and begin looking around. They try to remain blended in, but the rain was definitely washing the dead smell off them. A walker attacks Rick and he splits its head open with his axe.

The group on the roof hold their breaths while Rick and Glenn hack their way through the walkers in their way as they run to the chain link fence between them and the construction site.

"Come on. Come on. Come on," Morales prays for them.

"Run, run, run," Tara's fist clench in worry.

Rick throws his axe over the fence. He and Glenn leap up and over. Behind them the walkers rush forward and pile up on the fence. Rick and Glenn tear off their raincoats. Glenn runs for the key board while Rick turns and starts picking off the most aggressive walkers with his pistol. The gunshots almost echo around the city.

The group smiles with relief once their friends make it safely into the truck. Rick backs the truck out, tires squealing. A walker is thrown off but continues to pursue. The crowd of walkers' weight pushes against the gate until it collapses. They push through and chase after them.

Jacqui, Andrea, Morales, and Tara watch them drive away.

"They're leaving us," Andrea breathes desperately.

"What? What?" Dixon squirms on the ground.

Morales shakes his head. "No no no no no. Where they going? Where they going?"

"No no, come back!" Andrea cries out.

"They wouldn't do that," Tara assures them. "I haven't known Rick for long, but I know he wouldn't just leave,"

As predicted, they didn't just leave. They are startled by Glenn's voice on the radio. _"Those roll-up doors at the front of the store facing the street – Meet us there and be ready,"_

"Come on! Let's go, let's go!" Morales urges.

"Hey, you can't leave me here!"

Andrea, Jacqui, Morales and T-Dog pick up all their bags and run for the stairs.

"I'm not fooling, man! Morales! Hey, man! Don't do this! Come on. Hey, that's my gun. You can't leave me. Don't leave me here, you guys." Merle pleads.

T- Dog is stalled, trying to decide if he should leave or free Merle. Tara stops at the door when she sees T-Dog is struggling. Morales is out the door, but goes back for T-Dog.

"Morales come on!" Andrea calls out, rushing down the steps.

"I'm coming!" He calls to the others then turns to T-Dog. "We've gotta go!"

"Morales! You can't leave me like this, man! Hey, T-Dog. No, man. You can't leave me, man. You can't leave me here – Not like this. You can't man. It's not human. Come on, don't do this," The man begs.

Tara meets T-Dog's eyes. "We have to go. Free him or don't, but we have to get going before the dead break in," She hurriedly grabs one of the bags he's struggling with and T-Dog nods and, full of adrenaline, quickly makes his way down to the cuffed douche bag. Tara leaves, expecting both men to be running behind her soon.

Tara gets to the others just as Jacqui and Andrea grab the chain for the door, ready to raise them. Morales joins them and they wait for the signal.

They hear a car alarm blaring.

Andrea looks at the others. "What is that?"

A car engine is revving and tires screech outside.

Almost completely unnoticed, Rick pulls up behind the walkers that are following Glenn. He backs up into position at the pull up doors where the others are waiting.

"Hey, wait for me!" T-Dog dashes through the store with walkers chasing close behind him. He gets to the room. T-Dog gasps for air from running. "They're here! Let's go! They're in here!"

Rick bangs on the store door and they start shouting urgently at each other.

"Let's go!"

"Open the door!"

"We've gotta go!"

"Go!" They finally get the doors open.

They heave their bags up to Rick. He tosses them into the back and gets back into the driver's seat.

T-Dog throws himself up into the truck. A crowd of walkers comes out through the hallway and to the truck.

"I'm in!"

Rick hits the gas while Morales lets down the back door. Rick drives the truck down the highway back toward the camp that he's directed to. Morales comes up and sits in the passenger seat. Rick looks back at the others, puzzled. Morales looks at T-Dog who is grimacing in pain. Andrea and Jacqui exchange a look and Tara looks to T-Dog.

T-Dog frowns, frustrated. "I dropped the damn key,"

A moment of uncertain silence falls around them before Andrea speaks.

"Where's Glenn?"


End file.
